What Hangs In The Balance
by headagainstthesky
Summary: George Weasley has always been a twin. He has always had a best friend. Now that his best friend is gone, he goes to desperate measures to get him back... but at a horrible price. Rated M for language.
1. The Settling Dust

A/N: This is the first fanfiction I have written in five years. I hope all of you enjoy it. Coming up with the idea for this wasn't particularly easy, but when I thought of writing about George after Fred's death, I immediately knew that I had to do it. I want all of you to feel George's emotions as you're reading them. I want this to be the best fanfiction you will ever read. Please review, and critique me as you see fit. This is for everyone who wants to remember Fred Weasley, and for all of you Harry Potter fans out there who have stuck by him throughout the years. I dedicate this fanfic to everyone who appreciates captivating, heart wrenching stories that you wish you could be a part of. If you're a Harry Potter fan, though, that's a given.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters. They are all J.K. Rowling's.

_What Hangs In The Balance_

Chapter One: The Settling Dust

Looking around at all of the people milling about, I felt like none of them were real. I didn't want them to be real. I didn't want any of it to be real. I had been sitting in the same spot for an eternity, or at least it seemed like it was an eternity. I was probably only sitting there for twenty minutes, maybe even less than that. But I didn't care how long I would have to sit there to make it all go away. That was all that I wanted: for all of it to disappear. I wanted Fred to come back, and that was it. Nothing else mattered at the moment. You-Know-Who was dead, but so was my brother. I didn't know whether to feel elated or empty, so I felt a bit of both. All right, I felt a lot more empty than elated. But it was the end of the war after all. Everyone around me had given a sigh of relief, so why hadn't I?

I kept looking over at him, not wanting to believe what I had seen. He had always been there for me, and suddenly he was just… gone. His body was there but he, _he_ wasn't. I would have given anything to have just one last talk with him, just one goodbye before he had to go. I wasn't even there when it happened. I don't even know what I was doing when it happened. I was too afraid to ask Percy or Ron about it. It wasn't the right time, and I had a feeling that if I knew, I would blame myself even more than I already had. I wasn't even sure if I could speak. I hadn't spoken at all.

For just a split second, right after I saw Harry take off the Invisibility Cloak and face You-Know-Who in the courtyard, I turned to tell him. I said, "Fred! Fred, Harry's alive!" And then that horrible, sinking realization hit me all over again. Everything happened so fast… Neville had already cut the great snake's head off, and after that there were about a dozen flashes of light in every direction. I had to gain all of my strength back after that one moment just so I could defend myself. All I could do was run into the castle and hide. I hid like a little child in the girl's lavatory. It was the first place I could get to that hadn't been blasted away. I don't recall how long I stayed in there, but I just couldn't fight. I could barely comprehend what was going on. I was in a state of panic and grief, both at the same time. For the first time in my life, I had felt like a useless coward.

But now the war was over, and I watched silently as my family all comforted each other. Ginny was crying on Mum's shoulder. They were both looking at the motionless sheet that covered my twin brother as if they were expecting him to get up and start walking around. I wished that he would. I wished that I could do anything, anything to bring him back.

I couldn't look at the sheet anymore. I kept thinking that I was seeing it move, but it was just the breeze that was making it ripple back and forth. Watching that sheet was torture. My thoughts felt like they were exploding. Half of me was gone. Half of me no longer existed. It had been blasted away, stolen before I even had a chance to save it. I could have saved him. I could have if I had been there with him.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. I had to get out of there.

As if bitten by something, I shot up so abruptly that my entire family looked around. All of their eyes were filled with the same emotion: that hot, sticky guilt that felt like fire upon my skin. I knew what they were thinking. He looks just like him. He could very well be Fred. I wish it were George who had died instead. He'll never be the same again. We'll never be the same again.

Oh God, just shut up. They didn't even say anything, yet I heard their voices loud and clear in my head. Bloody hell. This had to be a nightmare. Surely this was some kind of joke. Fred was going to pop up and give us all a right scare, and say, "I got you!" Quite the prank, Freddie. You had us all going. You really had us going there, you know.

I strode as quickly as I could out the Great Hall, past the rows of sheets and out the door. I heard nothing but the sobs of a widow, the cries of an orphan. We were all feeling the same thing… though this had to be different. This was different. No one in there knew this. The Patils were alive and well. They were the only other set of twins that I could think of. So no, they had no idea what I was feeling. They had no clue.

It didn't matter anyway. Nothing mattered anymore. What was I to do after this? Would there even _be_ an after? Would the day ever end? The joke shop… Fred, what about our dream? How can it be our dream when you're not here? How can it be my dream when it was ours? I can't just pretend like nothing ever happened, Freddie. I can't do this. Oh fuck, I can't do this.

After a few minutes of walking through the debris and rubble from the battle, I was at the edge of the Black Lake. I looked out onto the water, resting my hands above my head and breathing so fast that I was sure I was going to pass out. I stood there and rocked back and forth, praying for some kind of sign to show me what to do. I felt like I was stuck in a moment that would never end.

I took my hands off of my head and starting walking in circles. I was crazy. I was crazed. Life didn't exist. Nothing existed. I certainly didn't exist at that moment. What was I breathing? Was it air? It felt like poison going through me. I kept getting the idea in my head that I wanted to walk into the lake and never come back up, but then I would see Mum in my head and I cursed myself for even thinking such a thing. She's already lost one son, George, don't make her lose another.

She's already lost one son oh fuck, Fred, fuck you. You were supposed to be invincible and now look at you! How could you? How could you leave?

"How could you leave?" I whispered. I was talking to no one. He wasn't there. He couldn't be, he was dead. _Dead_. The word itself seems to collapse in your mouth as you say it.

"Dead."

And just like that, I started crying. I hadn't cried at all since I saw him lying there. It must have been the shock of it, I suppose, or maybe I just didn't want to believe what I was seeing. Perhaps I refused to cry because the tears would blur my vision, and I was hoping that I would look up and see him walking through the Great Hall doors like nothing had happened. No, that couldn't have been Fred. That had to be our long lost… triplet that we never met. Yeah... yeah, we had to have been triplets. Who cares who it was, it just wasn't Fred. That much I was certain of when I saw who was lying in that cot. It wasn't him.

I continued to cry, even though I didn't want to. I honestly thought that I wouldn't. I thought I was too grown up to do such a thing. It turns out that you can never be too grown up for something like crying.

Fuck, Fred, I wish you were here. Why can't you just be here with me? I need you. I need to talk to you. There are so many things that I still want to say and I can't say them. I can't say them, because if I say them out loud… if I tell them to the sky, then that means you're not here. And you are here. You _are_. You're just… ugh. Stop lying to yourself. Just stop. Oh, God.

This just can't be real. Will I ever smile again, Freddie? Will I ever laugh or joke again? How can I when you were the one I laughed with? How, Freddie, tell me how?

Before I knew it, I had crumpled to the ground and sat with my legs crossed. All I could do was hold my head in my hands and cry, cry, cry. I didn't know when I would stop. I didn't know if I could stop at all. It felt good to let it out, at least. It would never make me happy, but it was something.

It took awhile for my heart to stop pounding as hard as it was, but my breath began to slow back to its regular pace. I kept closing and opening my eyes. When they were open, you were gone. When they closed, I saw your lifeless face. It was awful either way. I couldn't decide which was worse. They were both worse than the other, if that's possible. I was blinking myself into hell.

Suddenly, I heard the sound of crunching grass and looked up to see Harry walking toward me. He was covered head to toe in dirt and blood, more so than any other person I had seen inside. I couldn't help but feel this was a bittersweet moment. Here was Harry, the Boy Who Lived, the one we had all been fighting for and with to defeat You-Know-Who, the one who _had_ defeated You-Know-Who, and I was so angry with him. I was angry for no reason, because I knew that he never wanted any of this. He was a baby when You-Know-Who tried to kill him. He didn't have a choice in it.

Even after those thoughts, I was still angry.

Harry sat with me at the edge of the lake, saying nothing. I didn't want to cry in front of him, so I just stared out at the water. After a few moments of silence, he finally spoke.

"George, I'm not going to say that I know how you're feeling, because I really don't…" he said softly, "but I'm here for you. We all are."

"You don't need to do this, you know."

I said it as quickly as a knife plunging into skin. That's what it felt like to talk, anyway. I felt like a dagger was ripping away at my insides. There was a lump in my throat so huge that I wondered if I'd ever be able to swallow properly again.

"I know. I'm just putting it out there," Harry said.

"Well, thanks, but I want to be alone right now. I'm sorry."

"What are you apologizing for?"

I didn't look at him, but I could hear the slight smile in his voice.

"I dunno," I mumbled. The lump in my throat continued to swell. I felt like I was going to cry again, but I held it in for the sake of keeping the conversation to a minimum.

"Whenever you're ready, George, just… we'll be there, all right?"

I gave a slight nod.

"All right."

Harry gripped my shoulder tightly before he got up and started walking back toward the castle. I turned my head and watched him go, feeling even more empty than I did before. I felt horrible that I was angry with him.

What was I angry about? Fred knew what he had signed up for… we all did. And for Harry to say that he didn't know how I was feeling was… I didn't even have a word for it. He had lost more loved ones than any of us. His parents, Sirius, Dumbledore… now Lupin and Tonks… and… Fred. And who would die next? We would all die someday, I knew that much. Would I be the last one standing? Would I go through this same emotion seven more times as each member of my family met death one by one? I couldn't even bear the thought.

The sun had been up for awhile now, and it shone through the trees like bright candlelight streaming through a doorway. I wondered if you were up there. I wondered if you could see me, if you were laughing at my childishness and yelling at me to get the hell up and stop blubbering. Imagining it made my mouth twitch.

I was a second away from smiling, but then I remembered that I didn't want that. I didn't want you to be up there.

I wanted you to be down there with me, at the edge of the lake.

But you weren't. And you never would be again.

* * *

><p>AN: Oh man, you have no idea how much I cried while writing this. I realize it's somewhat short, but I intended for it to be that way. The rest of the chapters will most likely be much longer. This is only the beginning. Just you wait.

No, seriously, you'll have to wait a week or two until the next chapter. But meanwhile, please review and tell me what you think so far. Thanks in advance!


	2. A Dangerous Idea

A/N: Thank you to my reviewers (the number is small, but you still count)! I want to make it known that unfortunately I will not be personally responding to any of the reviews, but only because if I answer to one, I'll want to answer to all, and that will take too much time (perhaps not now, but hopefully the number of reviewers will get bigger). Nevertheless, I appreciate you guys more than anything! Now, onto the second chapter!

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters. They are all J.K. Rowling's.

Chapter Two: A Dangerous Idea

"How do you think he's doing?"

"I'm not sure, he hasn't even shown himself since we arrived home…"

"I wish I knew what I could do to help him."

"I don't know if anything will help him right now, dear."

"Oh, Arthur, this is unbearable. This is… I can't…"

"Sh, it's alright. Come here."

I could hear my mum sobbing outside of my door, and the sound of it made my stomach clench. A part of me wanted to get out of my bed, throw open the door, and give her the tightest hug imaginable. But I just couldn't do it. I was never the type of person who showed my true emotions to other people, and quite frankly I didn't know what I'd say. I could hear Dad's voice again, barely above a whisper.

"We'll get through this. We will."

"Will we? Will _he_? I don't w-want to lose him t-too."

My mum blew her nose loudly and continued to cry. Her breathing was ragged and shallow and made me nervous. I had seen my mum get emotional loads of times, but it had never been this bad. I had spent an entire day in my old bedroom, and even with my door closed and my head under my pillow I would hear her crying out and yelling incoherently every few hours.

"He'll talk when he's ready," Dad told her.

Nothing was said after that, and I figured Mum had just nodded her head in reply. She blew her nose again, this time even louder than the one before it. I watched their shadows move from beneath the doorway and heard them walking down the stairs. I was grateful that they hadn't insisted on coming in. Dad was right; I would talk when I was ready. And I wasn't ready. I didn't know if I'd ever be ready, to be honest.

After they were gone, I closed my eyes and tried for the thousandth time to fall asleep. I had been wide-awake for 30-something hours now, and I could feel my body itching to rest. My mind, however, refused to shut down. I kept going over every memory I had with him, every laugh, every prank… all of them blurred together in my head like spilled ink. I didn't feel quite as insane as I had earlier, since I had more time to process through the shock, but it still hurt. It would always hurt. Every time I thought I felt okay, another memory would pop up and my eyes would well up with tears all over again.

I remembered how when we were children, we would always pretend to be one another. We thought it was the most wondrous thing that we looked like each other, and we constantly fooled anyone who hadn't memorized our differences. Dad was the only one who never fell for our tricks. Mum got us mixed up quite a bit, but we definitely didn't make it easy for her either. It's amazing how funny something can be when you're an innocent kid. Innocence… how I wish I could go back to such a time.

Another hour passed, and all the while I did nothing but stare at the ceiling. I had to keep my eyes on something, or else I would stare at your empty bed and imagine you lying in it. We had spent endless nights whispering to each other in those beds, coming up with schemes and adventures and hoping Mum wouldn't hear us. Whenever she did, she'd come bounding into the room, hoping to catch us practicing magic or sneaking out of the window to go flying. She never once caught us. We were the best at pretending to be asleep. You had such a convincing snore, Fred. Why couldn't you be pretending this time?

I let out a frustrated sigh and turned back toward the door. I didn't want to think anymore. I didn't want to have those memories anymore. They may have been happy to think about at one point, but now they did nothing except taunt me. Picturing our smiling faces felt like a dream, something that my head had just made up on the spot. I wanted so badly to erase everything just to be able to fall asleep. Then I felt ashamed for thinking something like that. I want to remember you, Freddie, I do… but it's going to kill me. I swear it's going to kill me.

A soft tap on the door suddenly interrupted my train of thought, and for once I welcomed the noise.

"George?" I heard Mum say, "Supper is downstairs if you're hungry."

She walked away before I had a chance to respond. I looked down at my watch and was surprised that it read 7:45. I had been in bed for nine hours and hadn't slept at all. How that is even possible, I don't know. I thought to myself for a second whether or not I even wanted to come out of my bedroom. My stomach had been rumbling for a good while, but I hadn't associated it with hunger. To me it was more like an ache that would never go away, a heavy stone that weighed down my entire body.

After a few minutes of debating the idea, I decided that I should probably eat. I was also quite thirsty since I hadn't had any water. I slowly stood up and stretched, then grabbed my wand and put it in my pocket. I hoped that this wouldn't turn out to be a horribly uncomfortable situation. They may have been my family, but I had no desire to talk, and I worried that they would try to get something out of me.

"Here goes," I said to myself before I opened the door.

As I walked down the stairs, I could hear faint chatter in the kitchen, and I instantly began to feel anxious. I had this scenario in my head that they would all turn to look at me, and in a crazed voice, someone would yell out, "Fred! Is it really you?" Then when they found out it was me they would be sad and disappointed that I wasn't him. It's just George. Stupid fucking George and no Fred.

My scenario turned out to be half true: when I walked into the room, everyone looked at me in a sort of panic. I wondered if they had just been talking about me, but I couldn't be sure. Mum was standing over the stove boiling potatoes, and she whipped her head in my direction so fast that I thought I had startled her. But then when she saw me, she seemed to relax a little bit. She gave the tiniest of grins and nodded her head at the empty chair that was next to Ron.

I was surprised that my mum even had the strength to cook a meal for twelve people, but I admired her for mustering up the courage to do so. Her presence gave me strength as well, because I was reminded that I wasn't the only one who had been holed up in my bedroom all day. She had been grieving just as much, if not more, as I had. It only took one look to know that she was merely attempting to hide her pain.

I had to squeeze through to my chair since there were so many people sitting around the table. Before I had even sat down, Dad started putting pieces of chicken onto my plate, along with two slices of fresh bread and three spoonfuls of peas. I motioned for him to slow down when he put his spoon into the bowl of peas for the fourth time, but he poured them onto my plate anyway. The tension that my entrance brought seemed to have passed, and everyone slowly resumed the conversations they had been having. I was glad to find out I was wrong about me being the subject matter. Dad, Harry, Hermione, and Ron started discussing whether or not they'd be going back to Hogwarts to finish their 7th year; Bill and Charlie were enraptured by something Kingsley was talking about, but I couldn't quite hear them since they were further down the table; Ginny and Fleur were telling Percy about the wedding that he had missed.

I didn't much feel like talking at the moment, so I picked up my fork and began cutting up my chicken. Then Mum came around and started piling potatoes onto my already full plate, and before she walked back to the stove she gave me a brief kiss on the head.

In that single moment, I felt a strange sense of ease wash over me. It was as if everything had gone back to the way it was, that fate had been made right once more. I looked around at everyone, and they seemed fine, for the most part. The girls had bags under their eyes from crying, and nearly everyone had numerous cuts and bruises. Percy had a huge gash across his nose, and he kept putting his hand up to it and wincing.

"Percy, stop that, let me have a look," Mum said.

I watched as she picked up her wand and made her way over to him to assess the damage. She lifted his chin and mumbled something under her breath that sounded like, "If I never have to perform a healing spell again, it'll be too soon."

I then diverted my attention to Ron, who was stuffing his face with bread and trying to talk at the same time.

"I don' really wan' a go ba'," he said.

"Honestly, Ronald, swallow your food before you talk," said Hermione, a look of disgust on her face. "And why on earth wouldn't we go back? We missed an entire year of education."

"It's not like we were on vacation or something! Do we even need to further our education? It's only one year, after all."

"I don't know, I think Hermione might be right on this one," Harry chimed in. "Just because we saved the Wizarding World doesn't mean we'll be working as Aurors at the drop of a hat."

"You'd think they'd make an exception," Ron mumbled.

"Well, like you said, Ron, it's only one year," Dad told him. He looked at Ron with a knowing expression that I knew all too well: his eyebrows were raised and he kept jerking his head toward Mum. Ron knew what he meant too, but he didn't want to give in just yet.

"I'll have to think about it," he said in a low voice. "But Hogwarts isn't the first place I'd like to be right now."

"Yes, but it's important that you finish," said Dad sternly. "You've already gone six years, so what's the harm in going back?"

Ron looked as though he had been defeated in this argument, so he turned back to his plate and began eating again. I had barely even touched my own plate. Although I felt hungry, for some reason I couldn't bring myself to eat more than a few pieces of chicken. I didn't want to suddenly get up and walk out, since that would make for an awkward situation, so instead I continued to listen to the conversations around me.

My dad began asking Harry all sorts of questions about the battle, which actually intrigued me. I pushed my plate away so I could set my elbows on the table, and without hesitation, Ron grabbed my uneaten bread.

"…Merlin's beard, Harry, when I saw that you were still alive I nearly had a heart attack!" Dad was saying. "You had us all in a right state. How did you manage to simply play dead?"

"It's quite a long story, Mr. Weasley," Harry said with a slight laugh.

"We have plenty of time," said Dad, hardly containing his excitement. "If you must, recite the short version."

Harry swallowed, obviously unsure of whether or not he wanted to tell this story. He looked over at Ron and Hermione for some kind of help, but Ron nodded at him wordlessly as if they were telling some secret to one another.

"Well, sir, on the night that Voldemort killed my parents," – I shuddered, still afraid of the name – "he actually transferred some of himself into me. His body was destroyed, but his soul wasn't."

Dad didn't say anything, but motioned for Harry to continue.

"And… well… before I went into the forest, I sort of – knew – that I had to die," he said. Suddenly I realized that everyone in the room had given their full attention to Harry. Nobody dared move or say a word, not even Mum.

"So you… you walked into the forest to let You-Know-Who… kill you?" asked Percy.

Harry nodded, and I saw Ginny put her hand up to her chest in shock. Apparently she hadn't heard this story either.

"Anyway, when I showed up, Voldemort was there with all of his Death Eaters," Harry said. "Hagrid was there too, they had captured him and had him bound with ropes. And, um, well, I just stood there for awhile, and Voldemort, he… he performed the curse and I was knocked unconscious."

Fleur gasped.

"What happened zen?" she said.

"I'm not um, I'm not quite sure," Harry told her. "I was out for a minute or two, and, when I woke up I… um… I realized I was still in the forest. I could hear Bellatrix Lestrange talking, and then Voldemort asked if I was dead."

I could tell that Harry was nervous about telling this story. I knew right away that he was leaving details out, things that he obviously didn't want everybody to know. At that point, however, I put it out of my mind and continued to listen. I, too, was curious as to how he had survived the killing curse for the second time.

"I heard someone walking up to me, and all I could do was lie there and hope that whoever checked on me would believe I was dead," he explained. "It turned out to be Narcissa Malfoy. She asked me if Draco was alive and in the castle, and when I told her he was, she pronounced me as dead."

I heard both Bill and Charlie whisper, "Wow," under their breaths. It seemed as though we had all moved to the edges of our seats, eager to hear what happened next.

"But 'ow did you not die?" asked Fleur in confusion.

"As I said, a piece of Voldemort's soul was attached to mine," said Harry. "So when he tried to kill me, he killed the piece of himself instead."

Everyone was in complete and utter awe. Even Kingsley had been captivated by the story, as his mouth hung wide open after Harry was done.

"Unbelievable," said Bill.

"You truly are The Boy Who Lived," Dad whispered in amazement.

Harry's cheeks began to flush with color from the praise, and all he could do was bob his head awkwardly and look around the table. He was probably waiting for somebody else to start talking, but everyone was still reeling with the new information we had just been given.

Ron and Hermione were the only ones who didn't seem surprised at all by anything Harry said, and I figured they had already been told. Almost immediately, Ron picked up his fork and resumed his meal, which, mind you, was his 3rd helping.

After a few minutes, the separate conversations began to start up again, and I realized that my food had gotten cold. I thought to myself that I had been at the table long enough; if I wasn't going to eat, there was really no point being there. I didn't feel like chatting at all. In fact, after Harry's tale of bravery, I felt even more depressed than before. Harry had been dangerously close to death multiple times, yet he lived on. Why couldn't have Fred done the same? Why did he have to die? Why did my best friend have to be gone?

I could feel that familiar lump start to form in my throat, and I realized that I couldn't stay at the table any longer. Without saying a single word, I got up from my seat and starting inching my way back toward the stairs. Before I could get there, I heard Mum say my name.

"George, dear, you've already finished?" she said. Luckily nobody seemed to hear her, so there wasn't another uncomfortable silence as there was earlier in the night.

"I'm, uh, rather tired," I told her. My voice sounded like it belonged to somebody else. "I'll just be in my bedroom."

Mum didn't say anything in return, but merely half-grinned and turned her attention back to the table. I was glad that she understood. She was probably the only one who understood, apart from Dad. I didn't ever want to know what it was like to lose a son… the thought of it made me nauseous with worry.

As I climbed the stairs to my bedroom, I suddenly realized what Harry had left out of his story: the Hallows. Everyone who grew up in the Wizarding World knew the Tale of the Three Brothers, and _I_ knew that Harry held two of the three that were in it. Would it be possible that he knew where the Resurrection Stone was...?

I walked into my room, closed the door, and threw myself onto the bed. There was something I was feeling, but I couldn't tell what it was. Happiness? It felt completely foreign to me, yet I knew where it had come from. I was… hopeful. I wanted so badly to believe that Harry could tell me where the Resurrection Stone was. If he did, then I could see Fred again. I could bring him back!

For the first time since I arrived home, I looked over at your empty bed. I clutched onto my pillow in excitement and said, "Don't worry, Fred. I'm going to fix this."

* * *

><p>As I lay in bed the next morning, I could hear heavy footsteps going up and down the stairs. With my eyes half-closed and curtains still shut, I slowly sat up and looked at the doorway. There were definitely shadows moving underneath it, but I didn't know to whom they belonged. My watch said it was 8:22 in the morning. I wondered who on earth would be up at this hour other than Mum and Dad; then I realized that it was probably one of them who was pacing.<p>

I decided that I might as well get dressed since I was already up, so I dragged myself to the bureau and began to change. Suddenly, the shadows outside my doorway were gone, and the footsteps had stopped too. I thought this was a tad unusual, but I simply shrugged to myself and continued my morning routine, ready for a new day.

Feeling sad wasn't an option today. I was determined, perhaps more determined than I had ever been in my entire life, to see Fred again. I didn't care what it would take, but I was going to get him back. Ever since my epiphany on the stairs the night before, I had been restless with crazy, mad scientist-type ideas running through my head. I was a wizard, for Christ's sake. I could do just about anything if I set my mind to it, so how was this any different? When I really thought about it, death was just a mistake waiting to be corrected. People had brought their loved ones back from the dead before, hadn't they? There were all kinds of magic that I hadn't yet discovered, and if I couldn't find the Stone, all I needed was a spell, or even a potion to bring him back. How had I not thought of this before? I can truly be brilliant sometimes.

I already knew what I was going to do: I was going to ask Harry about the Resurrection Stone, and if he refused to tell the truth, I would… well, I hadn't gotten to that part yet. I thought that maybe I would threaten him, but I immediately squashed that idea out of my head. Regardless of my determination, Harry was still my friend, and I didn't want to come off as a lunatic. Shit, who was I kidding? I was already turning into a lunatic.

Even if he didn't have the Resurrection Stone, there were other options… I was sure that there must have been some dark magic that I could do, some complicated ritual that would bring Fred back to life. Perhaps ritual wasn't the right word… it sounded a little too dark. Hm… séance? No, that's more for communicating with the dead rather than resurrecting them. Actually, resurrection seemed to be the only word that made sense. The stone was a "Resurrection Stone," after all. Besides, I wasn't looking to sacrifice something in exchange for it, and isn't that what a ritual entails? Oh, fuck, what if I had to sacrifice something?

I stood in my bedroom, now fully dressed, and breathed a deep breath. I had to stop thinking for a minute. My mind was becoming convoluted with all of the possibilities, and I was getting a bit dizzy from it. I just couldn't contain myself. The truth was, I didn't care what it would take. If I had to sacrifice a bloody cow then I would do it. I would have done anything at that moment to see Fred's smile again, hear his voice again. To hell with the consequences. Fred never deserved this. He never did anything to deserve such an end. And that's why I was going to make things right.

I was either going to bring him back or die trying.

Rather than walking downstairs and talking to Harry there, I wanted to get him alone. I didn't want to have to worry about somebody interrupting us, especially since this was a private matter. I wouldn't have asked Harry about it at all if I didn't have to; I felt psychotic enough as it was, and revealing my plan to resurrect my brother sounded insane even to me.

I opened my bedroom door just a crack so I could see out onto the stairs, and for about half an hour I waited noiselessly to catch Harry walking by. I hadn't thought that he would even be up any time soon, but to my delight I was proved wrong. I watched him go into the bathroom around 9:00, still dressed in his pajamas, and luckily I didn't have to wait long until he came back out. As he did, I hissed at him from behind my door.

"Psst! Harry!"

He stopped dead on the staircase and looked around, bewildered. I opened the door wider so he could see it was I who was talking to him, and he stared at me.

"George? What are you doing?" he asked.

"Shh, not so loud," I whispered. "Come in here for a minute, will you? I need to talk to you about something."

Harry continued to stare at me with his eyebrows furrowed, but complied. I ushered him through the door and closed it behind me as quietly as I could, hoping that none of my nosy family members would come in. I turned to Harry, who had gone over to the window and opened the curtains.

"Sorry," he said, "it's really dark in here. I couldn't see a thing."

"No worries," I told him, wringing my hands nervously. Harry seemed to notice this and instantly looked concerned.

"Are you all right?"

"Yeah," I said a little too quickly. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Have a seat on the bed for a minute."

I could see that he was a bit reluctant, but he sat on the bed anyway. He bent over so that his elbows were on his knees and looked up at me.

"So what's up?"

"I wanted to ask you about… something. Something important," I stammered. "But I don't quite know how to say it."

"George, I told you I was here for you, didn't I?" Harry said, and I nodded.

"I remember."

There was silence for a minute before I decided that I should just blurt it out while I had the nerve.

"I want to know what you did with the Resurrection Stone," I said in a rush.

At once I felt relief from saying it aloud, but there was also a slight panic that came with it. Harry's expression changed to one of shock, and he slowly looked around the room, clearly taken aback that I had asked such a thing. Then he put his eyes back on me and said very seriously, "What makes you think I have the Resurrection Stone?"

I couldn't help but smirk a little bit.

"Harry, look who you're talking to."

Harry seemed to be at a loss for words. I walked to the bed and sat down beside him, looking down at the floor as I did so.

"Fred and I knew about your Invisibility Cloak," I said. "You already know that. It was only a matter of time before we figured out the rest, mate."

"What do you mean, 'the rest'?" he asked.

"The Deathly Hallows. We heard you and Ron talking about the Elder Wand more than once, and when Scrimgeour came with Dumbledore's will, it didn't take us long to figure it out," I told him. "We saw Hermione's copy of _Tales of Beedle the Bard_ and connected the dots."

"But how would you know if I had the Stone too?"

"Well, you haven't denied it thus far," I pointed out, "and you just said 'had', which confirms my suspicion that you did have it, but you got rid of it."

Harry sighed and rubbed his face, making me wonder for a moment if he actually still had it. It could have been in his pocket right then!

"Do you – do you have it right now?" I said without thinking.

To my disappointment, Harry shook his head. Getting information out of him was starting to frustrate me, seeing as he hadn't actually told me anything.

"Then where is it?"

I knew that I was pestering him; I could see in his face that he was starting to question my motives. I didn't care, though. I needed him to tell me or I would never be able to find it.

"Harry, please," I begged, and I took him firmly by the shoulders, "I have to find it. I have to."

"Look, I'm sorry," he said. He grabbed my arms slowly and removed them from his shoulders, and it was obvious that he was trying very hard not to upset me. "I don't know where the Stone is."

"You're a fucking liar!" I yelled, and I got up from the bed so fast that Harry jumped in surprise.

I couldn't believe how much anger I felt at that moment. A huge rush of emotion had surged through my body, and suddenly all I wanted to do was rip my hair out and cry. Harry stood up from the bed steadily, and he put his hands out as if he was trying to calm a horse.

"George, it's okay," he coaxed. "It's going to be okay."

"No, it's not okay!" I said, and without warning I started to cry. This was the last thing I wanted to do, especially in front of Harry, but I couldn't help myself. I felt like I was being an absolute arse, but I had no idea what else to do.

"You don't understand, Harry," I sobbed. "I need to bring him back. I need to – I need to do something, anything. I just – I need to – I need to…"

I started to sob uncontrollably, and I felt like I could barely breathe. Harry looked as though he was scared shitless, and I knew it was because he had never dealt with someone else's outbursts before. Truthfully, I hadn't either. Even if I had, I wouldn't know what to say, so I didn't blame him.

After awhile, I realized that the whole house could probably hear me, and I tried my best to calm down. I sat back down on the bed and put my hand over my eyes, mortified that I had lost control in front of him. Harry sat down too, and he patted my back, as only a friend would do. God, I was being a fucking idiot.

"I'm s-sorry," I said, wiping the remaining tears under my eyes.

"There you go apologizing again," Harry laughed. "You have nothing to be sorry for. I understand why you want the Stone."

I sniffed and felt him remove his hand from my back. I couldn't bear to look over at him; I was still way too embarrassed. Instead, I looked straight ahead.

"I wasn't lying, by the way," he told me. "I don't have the Stone. But you were right about me having it before. Dumbledore gave it to me in his will."

"Wait," I said, "do you mean… the Snitch?"

"Yep. It was inside the Snitch, can you believe it?"

I shook my head and felt myself smiling, something I didn't think I'd ever be able to do again. All of a sudden I started feeling hopeful like I did before, and I turned to Harry, praying that my question would finally be answered.

"So if you don't have it anymore, where is it now?" I asked him.

Harry sighed again.

"It's in the Forbidden Forest."

"What? Where in the Forbidden Forest?" I said in earnest.

"I don't know," he replied, and at the crestfallen look on my face, he added, "I honestly don't, George. I know it's in there somewhere… but I dropped it on purpose."

"On purpose?" I repeated, and he nodded. "But… why?"

"Why do you think? It's not meant to be kept by anybody," Harry said. I couldn't believe how calm he was about this, but he seemed to be at peace with his decision.

"Nobody said anything about keeping it," I muttered.

"It doesn't matter. I know what you're thinking."

"Oh, do you?" I said sarcastically. I was beginning to drift back into hopelessness again, when suddenly I had an interesting thought. The Stone may have been lost in the Forbidden Forest, but I knew for a fact that it was there. Would it really be that hard to find it? It couldn't have been that deep in the forest, since I knew that Harry couldn't go that far into it anyway without getting lost. Hell, nobody could go into without getting lost, except for maybe Hagrid. But perhaps I could mark a trail… yes, it couldn't be that difficult. Wherever it was, it was most likely still there…

"Oy! Wipe that look off your face!" Harry exclaimed, snapping his fingers to get my attention. "I know that look. Ron gets it every time he comes up with some mad idea."

"Come off it," I said, "I'm just thinking."

"Well, stop. That Stone needs to stay where it is, all right?"

"Yeah, yeah, I heard you."

I may have heard him, but I was far from obeying him. My mind was running at about a hundred miles an hour, and all I could think about was how good it would feel when I got to see Fred again. The Stone may not have brought people back to life, but it at least brought them back to earth, which was all I really wanted. It was better than nothing. It was the only thing I could think of that would bring him back to me.

Before Harry could say anything more, the door opened and Ginny's head popped in. We both looked up, startled from the unexpected noise.

"What the _hell_ are you guys doing in here?" she demanded.

"Nothing," Harry lied at once, and he gave her an unconvincing smile. "George and I were just having a debate about… Quidditch."

I nodded hastily in agreement, unsure of whether or not I should say anything. Ginny remained in the doorway for a moment, but did nothing other than roll her eyes. She didn't even bother calling us out on the made up story.

"Mum's made breakfast. Come down to eat, the both of you."

It wasn't a question.

Pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, Harry lifted himself from the bed and started walking out of the room. Before he left, however, he turned around and gave me a look of utmost seriousness.

"I meant what I said. The Stone is not for keeping," he told me. "Please don't do anything stupid."

And with a turn of his heel, he was gone.

* * *

><p>AN: Whew, this took longer than I expected! It's totally worth it, though. I love writing. Oh yeah, and guess what I else I love? Feedback! So don't forget to review! :) I'll try to have the next chapter up by September 12th. Until then, I bid you adieu.


	3. Desperate Measures

A/N: Okay, guys, I'm finally writing this. Once again, I apologize for making you wait so long! I didn't expect the fatigue and lack of motivation that came with starting school, but it really has taken over me. Bleh. Hopefully I can get into the swing of things and not be so damn tired all the time. Anyway, onto Chapter 3! Do I have you hooked yet?

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters. They are all J.K. Rowling's.

Chapter Three: Desperate Measures

I awoke to the sound of light rain tapping on my window, almost as if it were beckoning me to get out of bed. For days now it had rained. The sky knew how to echo my feelings all too well, but even when it had stormed and shook my floors, I barely noticed it. I was consumed with horrible thoughts, thoughts that I couldn't erase from my mind for more than a minute of sweet distraction. I was going crazy again. It was taking over again.

Reluctantly, I got out of bed and began my morning routine. I don't know how I was doing it, but I suppose someone or something must have guided me. Everything I did made me feel like I wasn't in my own body. It's a strange sensation, surrealism. I never quite knew what people meant by "feeling surreal," and now I was living it every single day. The motions were simple and fluid, but they felt complicated. I didn't feel like myself.

It had been about a month since I had talked to Harry about the Resurrection Stone. Actually, it had been about a month since I had seen or talked to my family at all. I knew they didn't think it, but I felt like I was an outcast among them. The whispers that ceased when I walked into the room, the looks of pity, Fred's always empty bed… it grew to be too much. I felt as though I couldn't take staying in the house anymore, so I left. I left four days after the battle and didn't say goodbye. Shameful as it was, I hoped they would understand. Even more shameful than that, though, was a solemn, gruesome fact that I couldn't shake: I didn't go to Fred's funeral.

Horrible. Awful. God, I was such a shit brother. But I couldn't do it. I couldn't fucking do it. If I had gone… if I had seen him like that again… I don't know what I would've done. I was terrified of the possibilities. The insanity inside my own head was bad enough; I can't imagine how bad it would be if anyone else saw it. So on the day of his funeral, I sat in my living room (our? Fuck, I don't know anymore) and stared at the wall in front of me. I said nothing. I didn't move at all. That's when the surreal feeling came to me. It came in an instant and it never went away.

Now fully dressed, I walked into my bathroom (our? FUCK) and picked up my toothbrush. I tried not to notice the shattered glass that I hadn't bothered to clean up, but it was difficult to step lightly since it covered most of the floor. Even if I had stepped on any, I probably wouldn't have felt it. I barely felt anything anymore.

It felt good not having a mirror to look into. That's why I broke it. The moment I had arrived home, I walked straight to the bathroom and smashed it. Yes, I hadn't bothered to clean up shattered glass in a month. I knew I was acting like a child, but I didn't care. It's not like there was anyone there to judge me (FUCK FUCK FUCK, STOP IT).

Luckily enough, I wasn't totally insane yet. I was slowly reaching that point, but I still had enough ingenuity left in my brain for me to come up with a fantastic idea. Over the last month, there had been days where nothing seemed to make sense. On those days, I would sit cross-legged in the shower, fully clothed, water running, and compose symphonies in my head that I would never remember later on. On the other days, though, I had had tiny moments of clarity where I would sit down and think of what I could do to bring Fred back. And then, on the first day of June, I came to a conclusion that I should have come up with sooner.

Harry had told me where the Resurrection Stone was. True, he didn't know its _exact_ location, but I knew for a fact that it was in the Forbidden Forest. What harm would it be to search for it? Of course, I thought of this the moment that he had told me, but I tried so hard to think of simpler, more convenient methods that I put the Stone out of my head. Still, it remained in the back of my mind, waiting to pop up again. When it finally did, I felt like an absolute idiot for not taking advantage of it. I should have realized that such a situation was so permanent that nothing I came up with could ever possibly work. Finding the Stone was my only choice.

And now, not more than a week later, I was putting my plan into action. This was the day that everything would change… I could feel it.

I sat at the kitchen table and looked out at the clear grey sky, praying to someone or something that my plan would work. I thought about how for three weeks, I had been forced to look at your empty chair until I finally chucked it down the stairs. For three weeks I had been forced to look at your empty bed until I finally set it on fire. I was tired of being forced to remember you. It wasn't as if I wanted to forget you… but it was an endless, nauseating ache just to breathe. I had to do something other than breathe, or else I would forget how. I had to keep myself busy or my heart would fall into my stomach and stay there. This plan was like hitting two birds with one stone. Not only did it keep my mind off of the bleak, meaningless future, but it gave me something to hope for. At the time I thought it was the most fantastic idea I had ever had.

When I saw that it had stopped raining, I immediately walked out of the kitchen and started gathering my things. This was it. This was happening. I started feeling excited, yet nervous at the same time. I put my wand in my front pocket and grabbed my knapsack. For a minute or two I walked around, thinking to myself if I needed anything else, but then realized that I was stalling. The nervousness was starting to get to me, so I quickly said to myself, "It's time, George. Just go."

A second later, my feet landed upon crunching leaves.

* * *

><p>The Forbidden Forest was much different than what I remembered. There was still damage left over from the battle: trees that were snapped in half, shredded leaves littering the ground, and even the grass seemed to be fading in color. It may have been mid-June, but it felt more like a scorching winter's day with the dark clouds hovering overhead. I looked all around me, trying to get a sense of where exactly I was, but I couldn't see an exit anywhere. I couldn't even see Hogwarts. I was deep within the forest, deeper than I had intended to go.<p>

I took my wand out and began walking. I had decided earlier that since I would have no clear direction of where I was going, I would mark the ground with red lines from my wand. I didn't want to keep retracing my steps, and this way I would know where I had already looked.

An owl hooted in the distance. It made me realize just how silent the whole place was. With every footstep I took, the silence grew. I had never been scared while in the Forbidden Forest, especially during the daytime, but I began to feel a certain eeriness surround me. Perhaps I was still shaken by the battle; I don't know for sure. I had been following the news closely over the last month, and _The Daily Prophet_ said that not all of the Death Eaters had been captured just yet. I had to be alert. For all I knew, some of them could have been hiding out there.

I tried not to dwell on these thoughts. I told myself that it was silly to think that any Death Eater would be around Hogwarts at all now that You-Know-Who was gone. It was such an odd feeling though… I was so used to having someone there with me, someone to help guide me, and now I was alone. I was alone in the Forbidden Forest searching for a tiny rock.

The more I thought about it, the crazier it sounded.

I continued to walk through the trees, but I wasn't having any luck. I must have been walking for about forty-five minutes when I decided to rest for a little bit on a fallen trunk. I got some water out of my knapsack and looked up at the sky, feeling the worry and anxiety start to creep up on me again. What if this didn't work? What if, by the end of the day, I still hadn't found the Stone? Even worse, what if I never found it?

I didn't want to imagine these things. I didn't want to imagine my life without Fred. For fuck's sake, I was already living my life without Fred. If the rest of my days were anything like the ones I had been experiencing in the last month, I was doomed.

After a few minutes, I packed up my knapsack and continued walking. There was no sense in wasting time. I searched the ground as painstakingly as I could, clearing the leaves and feeling the dirt with my bare hands while I went. Upon leaving every searched area, I left a long red line with a flick of my wand and moved on to the next. It was about midday when the clouds started to disperse, and the sun made its ways past the trees so I could see a bit better. Even with the sun, I hadn't spotted a thing. I hadn't seen many rocks, and the ones I had come across were much too big to be the Stone. I started to wonder if I should try to establish a sense of direction, but didn't even know where to begin. Harry hadn't told me where he entered the forest, and he never knew where he was when he came across You-Know-Who and the Death Eaters.

I was essentially walking to nowhere.

I searched and searched, and as I did, the horrible thoughts began to creep into my mind as they had before. This was becoming routine, feeling the steady waves of faith and despair. It seemed like it was never-ending. One minute I would be confident and sure of myself, and the next I would doubt everything I had ever known. I didn't know what to do anymore. Instead of brooding, I tried my best to move forward. I told myself, _Wherever my legs take me, that's where I'm meant to go._ I stuck with that thought and believed in it wholeheartedly. The only problem was that it didn't last quite as long as I had hoped.

About an hour later, I came across a few of the red lines I had left in the dirt, and I noticed that they weren't as bright as they were when I last saw them. I found this a little unsettling, so I sat down to watch them, just for a minute or two. I didn't think I had anything to worry about… that is, until they began to fade completely. Horrorstruck, I watched as the red lines slowly vanished into the ground, and the initial wave of despair I felt just minutes before hit me like nothing I had ever experienced.

The red lines were the only things tracking my progress. Now that I realized what was happening, I wondered if I had been going in circles the entire time I was there. I couldn't even think of a way to reverse the damage. I was fucked.

I expected that I would start crying or cursing or screaming at the top of my lungs, but I didn't. All I could do was sit there and tremble. I felt like I was out of options. There was nothing, absolutely nothing that could ease my pain. The rest of my family was alive and well, but I knew that we would forever be broken. Was it really so much to ask to have my brother back? Was it so much to ask for this one miracle? We had gone through so much together, and to have all of it snatched away in the blink of an eye was just… cruel. It was downright cruel.

The sun that had guided me through the forest was starting to fade on the horizon, and tiny patches of stars began to bloom in the twilight. I looked down at my dirt-covered hands and noticed for the first time that they were shaking. My whole body was shaking. I tried to calm myself, but nothing comforting came to mind. The more I tried to think about happy things, the more I thought about Fred. Fred's face, Fred's empty bed, Fred's coffee mug in the cupboard. Fuck, what was wrong with me.

I didn't want to believe that I had reached the end of the road. How could one even see it as "the end of the road" if I hadn't gotten anywhere? Impossible as it seemed, the last thing I wanted to do was abandon my search. I still felt as though there was something out there that could help me; I just had no idea what it was. It was there, in the back of my mind, waiting to be discovered. I could feel it. And I was going to discover it, but I needed some kind of push that would lead me in the right direction. If only life was that simple.

I took a deep breath and slowly willed myself to stand. Whether I found the Stone or not, I couldn't sit there forever. Unfortunately, I couldn't think of another way to mark my trail, and even if I had, I didn't want to risk the same thing happening again. I looked around, hoping that I could come up with a new plan of action, and to my surprise I began to see faint lights in the distance.

"There you are," I whispered.

Now that the sun was nearly set, it was much easier to see the outline of Hogwarts through the trees. Either that or I had found my way closer to the edge of the forest. No matter the cause, I was grateful that I now knew where I was heading.

The moment I took my first step toward the castle, I felt an eerie chill wash over me. I had no idea where it came from, but it was such a peculiar sensation that I gasped aloud. It was still light enough to where I could see what was around me, so I didn't know whether I should be frightened or skeptical. It was the Forbidden Forest, though… and I was all alone… at night…

I suddenly realized that searching for the Stone in the dark was a terribly stupid idea. I began to wonder whether I should just give up for now and then come back the next day, when another chill made its way up my spine. I darted around, trying to find the source of it. It wasn't the wind; the air was still quite humid and lifeless. There didn't appear to be anything around me. Apart from a few rabbits and owls, I hadn't seen any other living creatures in the forest that day.

As I looked around me, waiting for something to jump out of the darkness, I had a strange thought.

"Fred?" I said softly, trying my best not to move.

Almost immediately after I had spoken, I felt a strong wind at my back. I turned around, startled, but nothing was there. Clutching my chest, I sat down on the ground and took off my knapsack. I was really beginning to scare myself. Then came another gust of wind, this time stronger than the one before it. Panicked, I stood back up and looked around once more. I could have sworn I heard someone say my name. I could have sworn I saw a shadow, first to my left, then to my right. I couldn't understand what was happening. Was I really seeing these things, or was I going crazy again?

"Stop," I shuddered. "Please stop!"

My breathing was shallow and rapid, and I could feel my eyes begin to well up.

"Fred!" I yelled into the night. "I'm sorry, Fred! I'm sorry! I'm sorry…"

I had no idea what I was apologizing for, or if Fred was even listening. A part of me knew that I was mental; the other part, however, believed there was something surrounding me in that forest, something unexplainable. I could feel its presence. I could feel it in the air, no matter how badly I wanted to deny it.

I began walking in circles, trying to think of what I could do. In truth, I knew I would probably never find the Stone. I wanted to have faith in the idea, but after spending hours searching aimlessly in the forest, I began to wonder if it was the right one. As strange as it sounds, I felt as though Fred were trying to tell me something… but what was it?

Perhaps there was something else that could bring Fred back. _No, _I reminded myself, _I've already thought of everything._ Well, technically, I had thought of everything that came to mind. But that was the problem: I was confined to my own ideas, as I hadn't let anyone else know of my plan. It's not as if I could go around asking people their opinion anyway. This was my choice, my responsibility. _Think, George, think._

I began listing off the different methods in my head. First, there was the Resurrection Stone, but that would only work if I could find the blasted thing. Second was a Revival Potion, which I had learned couldn't wake the dead, but only those in a Petrified or comatose state. Third was a Time-Turner, but as fate would have it, all of the Time-Turners had been destroyed in the Department of Mysteries. Come to think of it, they couldn't have _all _been destroyed… I was sure someone had their own Time-Turner, but I wasn't about to track down every witch and wizard in England, travel to their homes, and ask them if they had a Time-Turner.

As I racked my brain for an answer, the wind that had died down just minutes before made its way through the trees, now stronger than ever. I whipped around, expecting to see more shadows, but there was nothing there. Just as quickly as it had come, the wind was gone. I was now looking straight at Hogwarts, but because it was completely dark, all I could see were its many flickering lights.

And then, something miraculous happened. A thought came to me in that moment, a thought so unexpected and so fantastic that I could hardly believe it to be true.

_Professor McGonagall had a Time-Turner_.

Why hadn't I thought of it before? Years ago, Ron, Harry, and Hermione had told the story of the night they saved Sirius. Fred and I had badgered them for weeks, along with the rest of the family, since we had all thought Sirius to be a madman and, well, Scabbers turned out to be the madman. They knew they couldn't have kept _that_ a secret, especially when Mum found out. She nearly had a heart attack, she felt so guilty.

It was all coming back to me… we had asked Hermione what became of the Time-Turner, and she said she returned it to Professor McGonagall. The chances that McGonagall had gotten rid of it were slim to none. After all, the remaining Time-Turners were gone, so she probably stashed it away, hid it for safekeeping.

I felt myself getting teary-eyed just thinking about it. Forget the Stone, the Time-Turner was even better. I wouldn't bring Fred back; I would stop his death from ever happening! Not to mention that McGonagall's office would be a thousand times easier to search than the Forbidden Forest… and I actually knew what a Time-Turner looked like, whereas the Resurrection Stone was a miniscule lump of rock that I had never seen. This plan was infinitely better, and quite brilliant, if I do say so myself.

With my heart beating like a drum, I picked up my knapsack and made my way toward the castle. It only took me a few steps before I remembered something: there was no way for me to get inside. Even though it was summer, the grounds would still be protected, and the Carrows had shut off the secret entrances that Fred and I were so fond of.

"Shit," I muttered, trying to come up with another solution.

Wait… wasn't there a secret passage that Neville had discovered the previous year? Yes, the one that led to the Room of Requirement! But to use it, I first needed to go to the Hog's Head. I didn't like this idea very much, seeing as I would have to confront Aberforth before using it, but I had no other choice. It was the one way I could get into Hogwarts undetected. Besides, I couldn't risk being seen, especially by McGonagall. She would stop me faster than a Body-Bind Curse.

I turned toward Hogsmeade and continued on, feeling much more confident now that I had a more realistic goal in mind. I put the Stone out of my head and thought of nothing but the joy I would feel when I got to see Fred again. I was somewhat angry that I hadn't thought of the Time-Turner before, but I shook that thought too.

The past didn't matter anymore.

I was about to change it completely.

* * *

><p>AN: I'm sorry this took forever, but I finally finished it. If you think this is a slow start, I urge you to be patient. I've planned this entire thing out, chapter by chapter. When things start getting good, believe me, it'll be goooood. I won't be setting a date for the next chapter, seeing as I never finish things on time, but it'll most likely be up within the month. Like I said, be patient, and don't forget to review! Thanks!


	4. The Other Brother

A/N: Hello again! I hope you guys liked the last chapter! It was somewhat short, seeing as there was very little dialogue, but this chapter and the ones following it are going to be longer, much longer! You'll see what I mean when the time comes. Heh heh heh… CHAPTER FOUR, COMMENCE!

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters. They are all J.K. Rowling's.

Chapter Four: The Other Brother

The door to the Hog's Head creaked so loudly when I opened it that I wondered if Aberforth had put a charm on it. As I walked inside, I noticed that the pub was no different from when I saw it last: it was the same dirty, empty room that had held the first D.A. meeting. I grimaced as the memory swam before my eyes, but then reminded myself that my pain would be short-lived. I highly doubted that Aberforth would stop me from getting into the castle, especially since he had met me before. Or at least, I hoped he wouldn't try to stop me.

I figured that Aberforth already knew someone had entered the pub, so I simply stood near the doorway. It wasn't long before I heard heavy footsteps descending the staircase. When Aberforth appeared, he didn't even glance in my direction. He went straight to the bar and said gruffly, "What can I get you?"

"Er – Mr. Dumbledore?" I said. I wasn't comfortable saying his first name.

He looked up, surprised, and I saw a slight twitch underneath his long beard.

"Weasley, eh?" he said, but he didn't smile. He started walking toward me, and it was a little unnerving the way he kept his eyes directly on mine.

"Yes," I sputtered. "We – we've met once before."

When he got close enough, he held out his hand and I shook it. His grip was somewhat terrifying, but he let go quickly.

"I remember," he told me. "I'm, uh, sorry to hear about your brother. He was a good kid."

I nodded my head as a thank you. I was surprised that Aberforth even remembered Fred, seeing as he didn't know our family all that well. Nevertheless, I felt a little more relaxed than I did upon first entering the pub. I was actually afraid that he would mistake me for Fred, or ask where my twin was. Now that it was out of the way, I could get right to the point.

"There must be a reason why you're here," Aberforth said. He eyed me curiously as though he already knew what to expect.

"Y-yes, sir," I stammered. "This may sound odd, but I was wondering… well, I was wondering if I could use the secret passage upstairs to get into Hogwarts."

I never looked away, and neither did he. I tried my best to appear confident, but in reality I was afraid that he would refuse, and I would spend hours trying to find another passage into Hogwarts. I was already exhausted from trekking through the forest; the last thing I needed was another obstacle in my way.

After a few seconds of agonizing silence, Aberforth raised his brow and folded his arms, almost as if I were challenging him to something.

"And why would you want to do that?" he asked.

"It's… complicated."

"Complicated," Aberforth repeated. He continued to stare at me, and as he did so I couldn't help fidgeting. Before I could open my mouth to speak again, he pulled out a chair to one of the tables right beside us and started walking over to the bar.

"Sit down and have a whisky, boy."

"Sorry? I – I wasn't planning on staying," I told him. "Please, this is important."

I didn't want to be rude, but it wasn't exactly the best time for me to sit down and have a chat. Now that I had a different plan set in motion, I was eager to see it through. However, Aberforth either didn't hear me or pretended not to, and he began walking back toward me with a large, half-empty bottle of Blishen's Firewhisky and two grubby glasses.

"If you had to get it done without asking," he said, handing me one of the glasses, "you would have done so already."

I looked down at the glass and back up at him, trying to figure out if I could actually consider this situation strange compared to all of the other crazy things I had experienced in my life. It was a simple drink in a simple pub with a simple man, but under the circumstances….

"Are you going to sit down or not?" demanded Aberforth.

I had no choice. Begrudgingly, I took off my backpack and set it on the floor. Aberforth, now sporting a sly half-grin, put both of the glasses on the table and began to pour the whisky. I took a seat in the chair he had pulled out, and when he was done pouring, he sat directly across from me. He raised his glass wordlessly. I began to raise mine in return, but before I could even put my lips to it, he downed his drink in one large swig.

"So," he sighed, "out with it."

I took a small sip of the whisky and sloshed it around in my glass, wondering if I should tell him of my plan or not. I barely even knew this man, yet I was asking him this favor anyway. All the same… did he really need to know why?

"It's none of your concern," I mumbled.

"Then who does it concern?"

Aberforth said it so quickly that I looked up at him, startled. His stare was more intense than what I was comfortable with, and for some reason I began to feel that I _did_ want to tell him. What was the harm, anyway? If my plan were to succeed, this conversation wouldn't even happen in the alternate future. (Damn, I'm starting to confuse myself.)

"As I told you, it's complicated," I repeated. "Look, I'm afraid that if I tell you, you – you'll try to stop me."

"Do I look like someone who would try to get in your way?" said Aberforth. "I'm just curious, boy. No need to be anxious."

I swallowed and put down my whisky, unable to finish it. I reminded myself that even if Aberforth said no to my request, there were other ways of getting into the castle. However, since all of the other secret passages had been boarded up when Snape was headmaster, it would take a considerable amount of time for me to figure out where exactly I could get in. I figured that telling Aberforth my plan was really the least of my worries.

"There's something in the castle that I need."

"And what is this thing that you need?" asked Aberforth.

"A Time-Turner."

Aberforth didn't smile or laugh. He simply looked at me, and his facial expression was lined with absolute seriousness.

"Have you thought this through, Weasley?"

He leaned closer to me, keen on getting as much information out of me as he could.

"Of course I have," I assured him. "I've thought of nothing else for weeks."

"Oh, so you've thought of every possible outcome that could happen once you turn the clock? You've gone through each and every single detail?"

I couldn't stop myself from shifting nervously in my seat. Of course, I knew that if I told him my plan he would question me; I just didn't know I'd feel this unsure of myself when he did.

"Well… no. No one can do that," I said quietly.

Aberforth scoffed at this and leaned back in his chair, shaking his head in disapproval. His responses, though completely justified, were infuriating me. I was so fed up with my own negative thoughts that hearing them from someone else was even worse. He was asking me everything I had already asked myself, everything that I had already gone over hundreds of times in my head.

"Do you have any idea what you're risking?"

"I don't care what I'm risking," I muttered, unable to hide my annoyance. "I don't care what the consequences are, I just want my brother back. Obviously I wouldn't go to such lengths if I weren't serious about it."

Knowing of Aberforth's temper, I braced myself for an angry retort, but it never came.

"I'm not questioning your seriousness," he said in a low voice.

"Yes, you are. Otherwise we wouldn't be having this conversation at all."

A long silence followed this, one where neither of us even dared to move. I was surprised when I glanced up to see a look of concern on Aberforth's face. Anyone else would find such an expression unassuming, but it didn't fool me for one second. I knew what he was thinking; he thought I was mad, that I had just decided to do all of this on a casual whim. He had no idea that I had already asked myself the same questions for weeks. He had no idea that the war going on inside me always ended with the same conclusion: _I just want Fred back_.

"My brother was stolen from me, Mr. Dumbledore," I said, keeping my eyes away from Aberforth's. I could feel his stare upon me again, possibly even more intense than it was earlier.

"He wasn't just a brother, he was my _twin_. He was my other half."

Aberforth still said nothing.

"Imagine having your soul split in two, and then being forced to live without it," I explained, and I finally looked him straight in the eye. "Every day is torture. Every day is a little more empty than the last."

Without realizing what I was doing, I took the glass of whisky in front of me and gulped down the remainder. When I slammed it back down on the table, Aberforth took a deep sigh of breath and stroked his mustache, apparently lost in thought.

"If you had the chance to go back for your one brother… would you not take it?" I asked.

Aberforth didn't answer right away, which I found odd. When he finally spoke, his answer wasn't what I expected.

"No."

I gaped at him, completely taken aback. I didn't argue, however. My look was enough to prompt him to say more.

"As much as I miss Albus… I know that his death happened for a reason," said Aberforth solemnly. "Death always happens for a reason. You should be old enough to know that by now. Besides, erasing one tragedy merely spawns another."

"You don't know that, though," I said. "You're just being pessimistic."

"I'm being realistic. Surely you don't think that you can just go back in time and rearrange destiny to be in your favor? Something will go wrong, I can assure you of that."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Yes, there was a voice in the back of my head telling me all sorts of things about the dangers of tampering with fate and what have you, but living without Fred was worse than anything else I could think of. Since the possibilities of an alternate future were endless, there was really no point in trying to foresee them. I was either going to continue in this life, rotting away with my loss, or I was going to go back and save him. And I had chosen to do the latter. Nothing would change my mind once I had decided. It was going to be done.

"Look," I told Aberforth, and this time my tone was more fierce than I had ever heard it, "I'm going to get into the castle with or without your help. Of all people, I thought you'd understand."

"Trying to make me feel guilty now, are you?" he said with a slight smile.

I didn't smile back.

"No, sir," I told him. "You feel that all on your own."

Aberforth scoffed, though he seemed more amused than anything. This aggravated me even more, as it told me he wasn't taking me seriously. I was tired of wasting my time trying to convince him.

"It's getting late," I said, pushing out my chair and grabbing my knapsack. "I'll just go, then."

I stood up and held out my hand, but Aberforth didn't move. He just sat there and stared up at me. I couldn't tell what he was thinking, or if he even intended on bidding me farewell. I felt like an idiot keeping my hand in the air, so I eventually curled my fist and started quickly toward the door.

"Wait," I heard him say behind me.

I turned around hopefully, and, much to my surprise, Aberforth said exactly what I wanted to hear.

"I'll let you go through the portrait."

He didn't seem very happy about giving in, but I was ecstatic. I didn't let this show, of course, since I knew he could easily withdraw his offer. Instead I waited for him to get up and calmly followed him up the stairs as I felt the excitement build up inside of me.

When we reached the portrait, he nodded his head at Ariana and she nodded back. The portrait began to open, and as it did, the excitement within me reached breaking point. I took a deep breath and looked up at Aberforth. This time, he extended his own hand for me to shake.

"Thank you, sir."

As I turned toward the portrait, he said something I'll never forget.

"You have to lose something to gain something, my boy. I hope you know what you're doing."

* * *

><p>It was very strange to be back inside Hogwarts castle. After the battle, I never guessed I would enter it ever again, especially so soon. I tried to block out the images of spells flying through the air, of people I knew bleeding and crying and crumbling to the ground as they were hit. In a way, I was lucky that I wasn't there at the exact moment Fred died. But I could still see his lifeless body. I could still see him dead. And I was determined never to see that image again.<p>

McGonagall's office was within her classroom, which was located on the first floor, so I found it rather quickly. Besides, I knew my way around the castle better than anyone. What I was afraid of was running into McGonagall herself. I never knew if headmasters resided at Hogwarts year-round, or if they had their own homes and then returned later on in the summer. I did know, however, that McGonagall had no family to speak of, so it wouldn't surprise me in the least if she had decided to stay at Hogwarts. I needed to be careful no matter what the case was.

Before I reached the first floor, I decided it would probably be a good idea to disguise myself somehow. I wracked my brain for a solution, and finally settled on casting a Disillusionment Charm on myself. It wasn't perfect, but it was better than nothing.

When I reached the Transfiguration classroom, I realized just how nervous I felt about being in the castle. I didn't see or hear anything other than my own footsteps, but I didn't relax for a single second. The candles of the castle were lit, which told me that someone was overseeing the place. Even if it was Fich, I didn't want to take any chances.

I quietly began my search, but it didn't take long for me to realize that something was different about the place. There were no papers lying around, no personal items, nothing but empty desks and blank chalkboards. I remembered that McGonagall had several cabinets where she kept numerous files, and those cabinets were missing.

Suddenly, I knew where I had gone wrong.

McGonagall was Headmistress now. She had moved her things to Dumbledore's old office.

Frustrated, I made my way toward the staircases and tried to think of how I would get in. I needed the password, but I knew that the gargoyles guarding the office had let Harry, Ron, and Hermione through right after the battle without asking for one. Perhaps I could persuade them to allow me the same courtesy? Fucking hell, this was proving to be more difficult that I had bargained for.

I was just about to turn the corner to face the gargoyles when the sound of footsteps stopped me dead in my tracks. I was still under the Disillusionment Charm, but seeing as I wasn't completely invisible, I could be spotted if I made any movements. I backed up against the wall and waited with bated breath. The footsteps moved closer… and closer… and then, there she was. Professor McGonagall, whom I noticed was wearing her regular school robes, looked as rigid as ever. Luckily, she was too busy poring over a stack of papers to notice anything out of the ordinary (such as a certain Weasley standing against the wall).

Once she had passed me, I slowly craned my neck around the corner to watch her. She had stopped looking at the papers and was standing directly in front of the gargoyles.

"Licorice wand," I heard her say in a bored voice.

The gargoyles instantly sprang to life and allowed her to pass, and before I could even move an inch, jumped right back to where they were.

On one hand, I was overjoyed at the fact that I had heard the password. That was really all I needed to get into the office, as the gargoyles didn't quite care who entered as long as they knew what to say. On the other hand, I had no idea how long it was going to take before McGonagall came back out. For all I knew, I would have to wait around for hours just to get up there without being detected.

_Oh, what the hell_, I thought. _I've waited this long._

It took precisely twelve minutes for McGonagall to leave the office.

Twelve minutes.

Someone, or something, wanted me to succeed. I could feel it now. I waited just long enough to know that she wasn't going to be back for awhile, and I recited the password to the gargoyles. Without hesitiation, they jumped to the side as they had done earlier. The entire time I was walking up the stairs to McGonagall's office, I shouted words of praise in my head and practically skipped inside as I opened the door.

Unfortunately, there was a lot more in McGonagall's office than I had bargained for.

There were the cabinets from the Transfiguration classroom, at least five of them, not to mention her desk, various trunks, suitcases, shelves… if I didn't know any better, the place could have been the next Room of Requirement.

My initial thought was to try the simplest solution first, and if that didn't work, I would move on to a manual search. I pulled out my wand and pointed it high in the air.

"_Accio Time-Turner_."

Nothing.

I sighed in frustration and looked around the room, trying to think of a good place to start.

Something as small as a Time-Turner could have been anywhere, though, and every second I stood there was a second lost.

So I began going through whatever I could get my hands on. I didn't bother cleaning up after myself, either. If I found the Time-Turner, none of this would matter. I searched and scraped through everything, from desk drawers to bookcases, to an old chest that contained a large array of trophies and awards. I could hear the portraits of the previous headmasters whispering to each other, and one of them even said, "Who is that? Show yourself!"

A few minutes later, I moved on to the cabinets, which were (thankfully) a little more organized. With each one I searched, however, I became less and less optimistic. At any moment, McGonagall could have walked through the door, forcing me to abandon my plan and start back at square one. Or maybe she would be kind enough to help me as Aberforth had done… but I seriously doubted it.

I rummaged through inkbottles, papers, more inkbottles, sewing needles and pincushions and teapots… extraneous things, and yet I could recall the exact memory of learning how to transfigure a turtle into a teapot during my first year. Fred could do it before me, of course. He was always better at Transfiguration than I was.

_Focus, George_.

At one point, I reached my entire arm into the cabinet I was searching, hoping that maybe I would find a hidden compartment. My hand then landed on something rectangular… it felt like a box. I deduced that it was fairly small, since I could pick it up with ease.

I watched in slow motion as the box came into view. It was the size of my palm, no bigger and no smaller. Both the top and bottom were a deep jade, and it was light as a feather. I couldn't even bear to look as I opened it. My eyes involuntarily squinted shut and, with a shaking hand, I removed the lid.

"Whoever you are, I demand you show yourself!"

The sudden shout made my eyes fly open in a panic, and as they did, they set themselves on the most magnificent sight I had ever seen. _The Time-Turner_. I could hardly believe it. My heart was beating so fast that I swear it could have jumped right out of my chest.

"Did you hear me?" the voice said again. It was coming from the same portrait that had spoken earlier, one I couldn't identify. "Show yourself, or the Headmistress will be alerted immediately of your presence!"

The man's voice, however annoying, did me a favor by snapping me back to reality.

I had to get the hell out of there, and fast. If McGonagall caught me, the odds of carrying out my plan were slim to none.

As quickly as I could, I threw the Time-Turner around my neck and stuffed the box back into the cabinet. The voice continued to shout at me, this time about putting things in their designated places. I was out of the office and down the stairs in seconds, but not before I heard Dumbledore say, "Do keep your voice down, Phineas; some of us are trying to sleep."

* * *

><p>AN: Well, guys, that's chapter four! Did you like it? Chapter five and onward will include a lot of shit hitting the fan, so I hope you're ready! Gahhh I'm so excited! Thanks for reading, and don't forget to review!


	5. Playing With Fire

A/N: Hello everyone! Did you enjoy reading the last chapter? If you've made it this far, that tells me you did! I want to thank those who took the time to review, and I want all of you to know that from now on, things are going to get WAY more intense. The first four chapters were important to the story, but from this point forward, you are going to be at the edge of your seat, I promise! Gahh I'm so excited. :) Anyway, here's chapter five!

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters. They are all J.K. Rowling's.

Chapter Five: Playing With Fire

What I held in my hand was more than just a necklace. It was more than anything I had ever touched, felt, or laid eyes upon, and yet there it was, dangling in front of me.

I could almost feel it radiating heat, but I think I was holding so much importance in the object that I made up that feeling entirely. There was always the possibility that it had a mind of its own… as Dad always said, anything that could think for itself without a brain to speak of was not to be trusted. But Time-Turners weren't made from Dark Magic… were they?

Hermione used it, I quickly reminded myself. If she used it all throughout her third year without causing horrible things to happen, then how would this be any different? She and Ron and Harry saved Sirius from the Dementor's Kiss. They saved Buckbeak from execution. Therefore, saving Fred wouldn't cause anything horrible to happen. If they had done it, why couldn't I?

_For fuck's sake, just stop it, George_. Nothing would ever be accomplished if I sat there all day with questions running through my head. It's not as if they could ever be definitively answered, either. They were just questions. Doubts. Fears. Things I couldn't predict even if I wanted to. To be honest, I didn't know if I wanted them to be answered in the first place.

_I just want Fred back_. I kept telling myself the same sentence over and over, afraid that I would forget my purpose after obtaining the Time-Turner. It was silly, really. There was no way that I would forget. But with all of my reluctance surrounding it… no, I didn't trust myself. This had to be done. It was going to be done.

After finding the Time-Turner, I spent nearly two weeks coming up with a plan. I knew how the Time-Turner worked, and that every turn rewound time by an hour. It had been a long time since the battle, though, so I had to come up with the exact number of turns before going through with it. If I used it incorrectly, there would be more at stake than saving Fred. It had to be done with caution.

Once I had calculated the rough time of Fred's death and the number of turns it would take to show up at the precise moment, I had to figure out when I would do it. The date I came up with was June 19, which would take place one month and two weeks after the battle. I would use the Time-Turner at approximately 12 p.m.

The tricky part was this: I would have to spin the Time-Turner 1,140 times.

Yes, you don't need to tell me. I already know that I am absolutely bonkers. Frankly, I was dreading the task, but it was a small price to pay compared to living without my twin. I would spin the Time-Turner ten million times if it meant I could see Fred again.

As I sat at the kitchen table, I tried telling myself that everything would go well. I tried to think of comforting words, simple things like _courage_, _honor_, and _family_. June 19 had taken forever to come, but now that it was here, I was a nervous wreck. This wasn't going to be easy. It took me so long to get everything right, to figure out all of the details, and I still didn't feel ready. It was going to take every ounce of bravery I had to pull this off. But I was a Gryffindor for a reason, damn it. This was the day I was going to prove it.

I glanced at my watch every five seconds, or so it seemed. 11:00. 11:15. 11:30. Perhaps it was a bad idea to be sitting around like this. I kept coming up with more reasons _not _to go through with it, even though my initial reason continued to outweigh them all. It would always outweigh them. _I'm doing this. I'm really going to do this_.

11:45. Christ, how was time going by so quickly? Actually, it was going slow. I felt like I had been sitting down for an entire day. I knew I hadn't. It's not like I had to prepare for anything. All I was bringing was my wand. I suppose I felt like I had to mentally prepare. Yes, that was probably it. The knot in my stomach reminded me of the very first day Fred and I went Hogwarts. The boat ride across the lake took at least half an hour, when in reality I'm sure it only took five minutes. I was just so anxious and excited and petrified about finally being there, about finally arriving at the place my brothers had talked about for as long as I could remember. And to think, that boat ride was nine years ago.

_Holy hell, five more minutes_. I couldn't take sitting anymore. I grabbed my wand in one hand and the Time-Turner in the other and leaned against the table, never taking my eyes off of my watch. I knew that if I did, I would start pacing, and I didn't want to distract myself with more inane thoughts. With every second, my breath seemed to become more ragged. When there was a minute to spare, my breathing stopped entirely. I couldn't even blink. My eyes were completely fixated on my watch, and I tore them away only so I could place my fingers on the Time-Turner and make sure my feet were planted firmly on the ground.

When there were thirty seconds to spare, I had to ask myself if I remembered how to count. _Shit._ _Wait. It goes one, two, three, four, five, six, seven_… _STOP IT, YOU PRAT! YOU KNOW HOW TO COUNT!_

I had to shake my head just so I could focus on the task, and before I knew it, the clock above the mantelpiece struck twelve.

My fingers moved instantly. _One, two, three, four, five, six, seven…_

I tried not to look up as the world swam around me. I could see out of the corner of my eye the wild shapes of the furniture being moved about, of the cupboards being opened… I noticed a bright light coming from the bedroom, from when I lit Fred's bed on fire. It was bizarre, hearing myself scream and cry through the night, but I couldn't falter for a single second. The numbers just kept going in my head, almost automatically.

Eventually nothing moved, and nothing was heard. All I could see was the sunlight pouring in and out of the room, again and again as the days rewound. Everything was still… and at the same time, it wasn't. After about 500 turns, my fingers began to ache. I ignored the impulse to let them relax. There was no going back now. Well, technically I _was _going back. So there was no going forward? Alright, I need to stop deliberately confusing myself. It's becoming habit.

I was getting closer… I was almost there… _come on, George, you're almost there!_ The pain in my fingers and wrist were agonizing, and I had no choice but to ignore it. It got to the point where I was simultaneously counting and shouting obscenities in my head, the latter being the louder of the two. I ignored that as well.

When I finally reached 1,000 turns, the shouting became much more subdued, and I began to feel restless with anticipation. I could hardly feel the pain in my joints anymore. In fact, I began to spin the Time-Turner even faster. I couldn't look at the Time-Turner and my watch at the same time, so I slowly turned myself to the clock above the mantelpiece. It was moving so fast, and somehow my fingers were going at a completely different pace.

I was nearly there… Fred's death took place around 1 a.m., and the clock was now going from 7 to 6… it was getting darker, though, not lighter, so I knew it would only take a few more turns. 4… 3… 2… _yes_!

I immediately let go of the Time-Turner, and the spinning came to an abrupt halt. Everything looked the same as how I left it, save for Fred's chair that I had thrown down the stairs. That chair wouldn't meet its previous fate, I told myself. There was not going to be a reason to throw it down the stairs again.

The apartment was completely quiet, and I realized for the first time just how shallow my breathing was. My hand flew up to my chest instinctively, and for a minute I just leaned against the sofa, taking deep breaths while the clock above the mantelpiece ticked.

The ticking reminded me to stay on point. I didn't know the exact time of Fred's death, and even though the clock read midnight, there was no telling how much time I would need to be able to find him in the castle and save him at the exact moment. Wand at the ready, I took one last trembling breath and turned on the spot.

Not a moment after I felt my feet slam into the earth, a green light went flying past my head.

* * *

><p>It was pandemonium. I had no idea that anything went on in Hogsmeade at the time of the battle; that's why I chose to Apparate there. How very, very wrong I was. I had to run into Zonko's just so I could avoid the bedlam, but I couldn't hide there forever. I cast another Disillusionment Charm on myself and set off down the street, involuntarily shielding my arms over my head. Even though I couldn't be seen, I could still be hit, and then who knows what would happen after that? What if my future self died? Would my past self live on? If he did, would he still come up with the decision to save Fred and then die while attempting to do so? Oh my God, I would be stuck in a time loop forever.<p>

_Focus! _I had to get to the Hog's Head, and fast. Luckily, I had Apparated right on the edge of Hogsmeade, close to where it was located, so it didn't take long for me to find the place. Once I was inside, I practically bounded up the stairs, hardly daring to believe that I was about to go back into the fray. Ariana couldn't see me, of course, but I think she knew someone was there even before I spoke.

"I have to get into the Room of Requirement," I said in a shaky voice.

I was afraid that Ariana would ask for a password or something, but she merely nodded her head and the portrait began to swing open. I wondered for a moment why she didn't even ask who I was, but then I figured that anyone who knew about the passageway was either a part of the Order or Dumbledore's Army. I ducked inside, and the portrait closed itself eerily behind me.

This was it. I was on my way.

The further I went down the passage, the more sinister it became. I could hear muffled shouting all around me. The stone floor below me kept shaking, and there were several instances where I feared the entire thing would cave in on me. After ten or so minutes, I finally came upon the tapestry that led into the Room of Requirement, and it opened automatically.

I heard a sharp gasp and froze in my tracks. I was sure that the Room of Requirement would be empty by now, but one person had stayed behind, no doubt on my parents' orders: Ginny. She had been sitting cross-legged on the floor, but when the portrait opened, she shot straight into the air with her wand poised in front of her like a swordsman in a duel. I had to hand it to my sister; she was prepared for just about anything.

"Who's there?" she said in a shaky voice. I struggled internally for a moment before deciding not to show myself. Even if my past self wasn't present, I didn't want to risk anything. I walked slowly to the door, trying my best not to breathe too loudly. Ginny was preoccupied with the portrait, though, so she wasn't paying any attention to me. When she finally had her back turned to me, I opened the door and ran out of the room, hoping she would have enough sense not to follow.

I didn't even have a chance to catch my breath before I heard loud footsteps coming toward me. I made sure the door to the Room of Requirement was shut before running off in the other direction, terrified of what I was running into. All of my horrible memories were coming back to me with every corner I turned; I watched people I knew being blown backward into the air; the stone walls crumbling to dust as giants tore through the castle with their clubs; and the streams of light, all different colors and shapes, flying in every direction imaginable. It was all I could do to avoid the spells, and on top of that I was trying so hard to remember where exactly I was going.

My sense of time had somehow vanished. I was so caught up in the battle that I completely forgot when I had arrived, and how long I had taken getting into the castle. The walk through Hogsmeade had been very short, though, not more than two or three minutes. As long as I could find the hallway where Fred died, I could hide close by and save him just in time. The problem was that I had no idea which hallway it was; only that it was on the 7th floor. And I had made it to the 7th floor, so why couldn't I see Fred anywhere? In fact, other than Ginny, I hadn't seen any of my family members yet. I had such a rotten feeling in my gut about what I was doing, a mixture of dread and exhaustion, but my only choice was to push it down further into my stomach. If I couldn't hold myself together, about a million things could go wrong. I was not going to let that happen.

I continued to search for Fred, weaving in and out through the chaos and finding myself, several times, being shoved against the wall by people accidentally running into me. One good thing about being hidden, though, was that I had the element of surprise. As I came upon the North Wing, I saw two girls in Hogwarts robes both dueling with a Death Eater whose face I didn't recognize.

"_Stupefy_!" I yelled out, and the Death Eater barely had time to turn to the noise when my spell hit him in the face. The girls turned around wildly, faces lit up with gratitude for their unknown hero, but I had already run past them.

I cast a few more spells here and there, and every time I did, the person I was defending would turn around, expecting to see someone behind them. The fact that they couldn't see me made me feel two very different emotions: one was relief, since they weren't supposed to anyway; and the other was sadness. I suppose I should have been happy about helping them… but it wasn't something I would be congratulated on, or noted for in centuries to come. They would never know it was me. It was a strange sadness, something that I didn't quite understand. I had never experienced it before, and for a second it caused me to lose sight of what I was really there to do.

Shaking my head of the confliction, I marched ahead, reminding myself that I was only there to save one person. _I'm not supposed to be here in the first place_, I thought. _I can't risk changing too much_.

Eventually I had reached the end of the 7th floor and was forced to turn around. I stopped in front of each corridor, scanning the area quickly for any patches of red hair, but I didn't see Fred. When I passed by the North Wing again, the two girls were gone and the Death Eater was still lying in the same spot he had been before. My face broke into the smallest of smiles, but it only took a second for it to vanish.

There was an explosion of noise several corridors down, a noise so terrible that it made my heart jump into my throat. It sounded like screaming and burning and walls collapsing. I began to run toward the noise, and with a stab of horror I realized it was coming from the Room of Requirement.

_Ginny_.

Before I even had time to get my thoughts together, two large doors materialized and, as quickly as they had appeared, burst open with a sound like a cracking whip. I stayed against the wall, fearing that Death Eaters would come pouring out, but instead I saw Harry, Ron and Hermione, along with Draco Malfoy and Gregory Goyle, fly out of the doors on broomsticks and into the corridor. They all dropped onto the floor, coughing and sputtering. The doors closed behind them and vanished.

I didn't even know what to make of the situation. Malfoy and Goyle sat like broken dolls against the wall, both of them wheezing heavily. I saw that Harry held something in his hand, something shiny, but it quickly fell apart and vanished into the air. Hermione was saying something to him while Ron looked on, but I was too far away to make out the words.

There was no way I could reveal myself to them, even if I was curious about what had just happened. Well, maybe curious isn't the right word. Flabbergasted, maybe. I thought dolefully to myself that if this was something that had already happened, Ginny _had_ to be safe. She had made it through the battle once before, and this didn't seem like an event that had been brought on by a shift in history; it felt right, but I couldn't explain how. I just knew that time was aligned in some way, that all of the pieces of the puzzle were coming together to form a completed picture.

What was this feeling? I couldn't seem to place it. I felt a tingle go up my spine, one that was familiar… but somehow sinister. I didn't like it. I didn't like it one bit.

And then came another noise, one that shook me like nothing else I had ever experienced: Fred's voice.

Harry, Ron and Hermione had heard it too; their heads turned in the same direction, no doubt in response to the yells and shrieks that were resounding throughout the corridor. I couldn't see what they were seeing, though, so I hurried forward and craned my neck to the right, just in time to watch the three of them running headlong into the battle.

Suddenly, I saw two redheaded men lumbering toward them in the haze, but I couldn't see their faces. I recognized Fred, though; there was no mistaking my twin. My heart swelled to about five times its size when I saw him, alive and laughing and striking his wand into the air. All five of them began to duel with the Death Eaters, two tall, hooded figures that were casting their spells with lightning speed.

I stood immobile against the wall, terror welling up inside me. I didn't know when the moment would be, didn't know how to save Fred or what to save him from. I knew that he died in an explosion, but that was it. I didn't know if a wall dropped on him, or if he had knocked his head too hard on something, or if a spell somehow hit him beforehand… _oh God, what do I do?_

There was shouting and laughter, and I realized that the other redhead that was dueling beside Fred was Percy._ Oh God, what if I save Fred and Percy dies instead? What then? What do I do? Shit, what do I do?_

When it seemed as though the two Death Eaters were defeated, something strange happened. All of the questions flew out of my mind and, as if jerked by an electrical shock, I sprang forward from the wall and charged at Fred. He was in the middle of saying something, but I didn't care what – I took him down easily, owing to the fact that he didn't see it coming, and I heard gasps and a small shriek. As we hit the ground, Fred didn't struggle or even shout out. I think I had knocked the breath from his lungs.

A second later, the world exploded around us.

* * *

><p>I couldn't breathe.<p>

Actually, I suppose I could breathe, as I knew I was alive, but my throat felt like it had been sewn shut. I could sense the burn in my chest, along with the faint aching in my legs and back. It wasn't until I sat up that the pain fully hit me. My shoulder blades ached furiously, as though rocks weighted them down, and my right calf was on fire, so much so that it took a long while for me to stand up straight. When I did, I finally saw the wreckage of the corridor: the walls had been blasted apart, but by whom or what I did not know. Ash and debris fell like snow in the air, making it nearly impossible to see what was happening. I could just make out Ron and Hermione further down the corridor, sending streams of red light into the night sky. It wasn't until a huge acromantula made its way into view that I realized what they were fighting, and in a panic my eyes darted to the floor, searching frantically for my twin.

He was lying face-up on the ground, but I couldn't tell if he was alive or not. I rushed over to him, not even caring if he saw me. In fact, I had a strange sense that I was visible now, that my Disillusionment Charm had worn off; but that didn't even matter. I was terrified that he might be dead, terrified at the prospect of having to face his death a second time. I kneeled down beside him, putting my hand on his chest and shaking him.

"Fred," I said quietly. My voice didn't even sound like my own. "Fred!"

He didn't move. His face was as still as a shadow. I could feel the tears coming into my eyes, the swift tightness in my throat; I began to shake uncontrollably, and as I did, I shook Fred even harder.

"Fred!" I cried out. "Wake up! Please wake up!"

A feeble cough came out of his mouth. I stopped shaking him and swallowed hard, trying to hold back the tears that were already spilling out onto my cheeks. Fred's eyes fluttered open and he let out a loud groan, one that told me he was in a lot of pain. He turned toward me, his eyes barely open.

"Georgie? Is that you?" he said in a raspy voice.

I couldn't help but smile, and as I did I let out a choked sob.

"Yeah, Freddie, it's me." I looked down at him and tried to find signs of injury, but I didn't notice anything out of the ordinary. There were a few cuts in his shirt, and some on his face as well, but nothing too serious.

"Where are you hurt?" I asked.

"I think a better question would be, 'Where am I not hurt?'" He held out his hand, gesturing for me to take it. "Here, help me get up."

Wincing in effort, I helped him to his feet, and couldn't help but soak in the sight of him. I couldn't believe I actually did it. Here was Fred, alive and well (for the most part), and it was all because of me. I saved him. _I saved him_. The phrase kept bouncing off the walls of my brain, as if nothing else mattered.

Fred must have noticed how weird I was acting, because his eyebrows were furrowed in concern.

"Are you okay?" he said. "You don't have brain damage, do you?"

He waved his hands in front of my face, and I batted them out of the way.

"No, I'm not brain damaged," I assured him.

Fred took his wand out, ready to go back into the battle, but he seemed to have been transfixed on something just below my neck. He looked confused, as if he were trying to read something in a language he couldn't understand.

"What is that?" he whispered, and I realized that he was staring at the Time-Turner. I had completely forgotten about it, seeing as I had been under the Disillusionment Charm, and in fact didn't think that anyone would see me at all. Without answering, I hastily took the necklace and stuffed it into my shirt, but by that point Fred was looking at me with an entirely different expression on his face. It was one of utter bewilderment.

"What are you –"

Another blast shook the corridor, making both of us teeter where we stood. People were still milling about, but luckily there didn't seem to be any Death Eaters around. I assumed the fight had descended and was now confined to the lower levels of the castle and courtyard. Fred was still looking at me strangely, almost as if he didn't know me. I didn't even know how to react. There was no way that I could explain the situation to him, not here, not now.

"Look, I –" I began, uncertain of what I should say. "I have to go."

"What?" Fred said incredulously. "Go where?"

"I just have to go!"

With that, I took off down the corridor, not knowing where I was actually going, not knowing what was going to happen. I heard Fred yell my name, but I didn't turn around.

I ran through the castle, higher and higher until I found myself in the Astronomy Tower. I knew I had to put myself away from the battle, away from the temptation of changing more than I intended. There was another me out there somewhere, dueling and fighting alongside his comrades, and I was lucky at this point to have not run into him. There was no telling what forces I had tampered with by saving Fred, or if they would twist fate's design into something horrible beyond comprehension. This was the one thing I was dreading most; I was dreading it even more than the possibility of not being able to save Fred.

In the back of my mind, I knew that if I failed in my endeavor, there had to be something bigger at work. If I had taken this much risk into trying to save Fred's life and he _still _ended up dying, then I would accept that it was meant to be. Granted I would probably be an empty, broken remnant of a human being, but regardless… I would accept it.

This was different, though. I had saved Fred. The cosmic order of things, the balance of life and death, whatever you want to call it… it was totally changed now. I had seen to it. What was it that Aberforth had said to me that day? _You have to lose something to gain something_. What if, by saving Fred, I had messed with something that was never meant to be undone? What if, after everything, I had merely fixed one thing just to break another?

The thought of it was agonizing. _Don't go there, George, _I thought. Don't fucking go there right now.

I sat in the Astronomy Tower for what felt like hours. My calf, as it turned out, felt like it was on fire for a reason: there was a huge hole in my pants where fire had burned straight through it. My skin was an angry scarlet, but it didn't seem too bad. It was first-degree at most. I cast a few healing charms on it and it looked good as new. The rest of my body was aching not from burns or scrapes, but from general exhaustion. And it wasn't even the kind of exhaustion you get from lack of sleep. It was the kind that you get when you're anxious, when you're a ball of stress and you can't seem to think straight. Now that I knew Fred was alive, I was ready to relax. I wanted so badly to sleep, to let the relief flood out of me, but the battle was far from over. I had to make sure that everything played out like it did before, that You-Know-Who would die and everything would be set right once again. There was no way I was just going to run off now.

The sound of the battle seemed to have died down considerably. In fact, it had been relatively quiet for at least half an hour. Tentatively, I stood up and looked out onto the grounds, taking in the breathtaking view. Around the castle there was nothing but broken pillars and rubble and waste, but beyond it… the shimmering lake, the lush mountains, the blue and orange sky as the sun peeked out on the horizon… it was truly beautiful. If only just for a moment, I felt totally at peace.

That feeling left almost as quickly as it had come. A rustle of movement from the Forbidden Forest made me whip my head in its direction, and I was snapped back into reality. It was the Death Eaters, of course, making their way back to the castle to finish the battle. You-Know-Who was leading them, his bald white head gleaming as he took abnormally long strides into the courtyard. I could see the Death Eaters more clearly now; there was Hagrid, carrying a very still-looking Harry, and Bellatrix Lestrange, I noted resentfully, was squealing in delight.

The Death Eaters formed a line in the courtyard. Slowly, the remaining wizards and witches within the castle came outside. You-Know-Who began his boring villain speech, no doubt goading about his victory and defeat of Harry Potter. As I looked down at my comrades, I could see the familiar red hair of my family members. My heart nearly skipped a beat when I saw that Ginny was safe among them. She was struggling, however; Dad was holding her back, as if trying to restrain her from lunging at You-Know-Who himself.

There was suddenly a collection of gasps from the crowd, and one girl even screamed, although nothing had happened. You-Know-Who was still talking. I wished so badly that I could hear what was going on, but I was too high up to be able to make out anything. All I could do was watch.

Neville had stepped forward, and there was something in his hands that I couldn't quite see, but I knew it was the Sorting Hat. Once again, I had no idea what he was saying. Even then, I knew it was going to happen as it had before…

In the blink of an eye, all hell broke loose in the courtyard. It was just as I remembered: Grawp came out of the forest and blundered toward You-Know-Who's giants in a fit of fury; the centaurs attacked the Death Eaters, sending them scattering amongst each other; Neville cut off the snake's head with the sword he had pulled out of the Sorting Hat. It was strange, looking down at mayhem and thinking, _Everything seems to be going okay so far_.

Everything did seem to be going the way it had before, thankfully. But there was something… _off_. It was something I couldn't quite figure out, something different about the whole situation unfolding beneath me. When this happened for the first time, of course, I had run back into the castle and hidden in the lavatory. Perhaps that was why I couldn't remember what happened from that point on.

No… no, it had to be something else. I could feel it. Something wasn't right. What was it? What was I missing?

I scanned the courtyard slowly, trying to make sense of what was going on. The Death Eaters' numbers didn't really seem to be thinning. That was certainly odd, but nothing too bad… plenty of them had Disapparated, right?

Or had they?

Now that I noticed it, I could definitely tell that there were way more Death Eaters than there should have been. The majority of them should be gone by now, fleeing from their nearly defeated master….

My eyes stopped at Hagrid, who was standing in the same place as he was before, unable to escape. And then, almost like bile in my throat, the sickening realization hit me.

Harry was still motionless in his arms.


	6. The Escape

A/N: This chapter is quite short, but I felt as though I needed to rearrange some things. I'll be starting the seventh chapter soon. Don't fret, my dears!

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters. They are all J.K. Rowling's.

Chapter Six: The Escape

No.

No, this could not be happening.

I was dreaming.

I hadn't really gone back in time.

_Wake up, George. Wake up now._

I closed my eyes. My jaw shook and my fists clenched and I wanted nothing more than to drown out the sounds below, every shriek of horror and crack of stone that told me all hell was breaking loose. I tried to convince myself that when I opened my eyes, it would all be gone. I would wake up in my bed, heart pounding, and get up to make myself a cup of tea. That always helped with my nightmares.

But when I finally opened my eyes, nothing had changed.

I looked down at the courtyard, hoping that perhaps the Death Eaters could be defeated, but we were vastly outnumbered. I could still see You-Know-Who in the midst of it all, dueling with at least four people. One of them was Dad. The sight of him made me immediately tense, and I was quickly reminded of what was at stake. I may have saved Fred, but now my entire family was in danger. Without another thought, I practically flew down the steps of the Astronomy Tower and back into the castle.

It didn't take long to get to the courtyard, seeing as the corridors were mostly empty. I was just about to turn the corner to step outside when a sickening thought hit me.

_My past self is out there_.

Shit, I hadn't thought of that. All I could do was stand behind the front doors of the castle and hit my head against the wall. I hadn't planned for this; I hadn't planned for _any_ of this. _What the hell am I supposed to do now?_

A panic attack was creeping up on me, I was sure of it. I felt like I couldn't breathe. My lower lip shook as I listened to the horrifying sounds coming from the courtyard, the solemn song of death and despair. I couldn't bear to look at what was happening. My eyes kept closing, as if I thought that I was still dreaming, but in the back of my mind I knew this was no dream. This was real. And I had caused it all.

"_Leave_!" I heard Dad yell. "_Go! NOW!_"

There was a flurry of deafening _cracks _as people began Disapparating. Aberforth's voice echoed over and over again in my head: _You have to lose something to gain something, my boy. I hope you know what you're doing_. It was all I could do to keep from running away again. The girl's lavatory was not an option this time. This time… this time I was going to set things right.

My heart skipped a beat as I rounded the corner, ready to face whatever lay beyond. I couldn't believe the chaos that was erupting around me; children and adults alike running back and forth between the smashed pillars of the courtyard, You-Know-Who blasting a group of wizards twenty feet into the air, and all the while blocking a dozen different spells from those of the Order. _How are we to defeat a foe that is more beast than man?_

I ran forward cautiously, looking around for a sign of my past self. I didn't see him anywhere, but a sudden flash of red took my eyes away from the courtyard. Ginny was running, running faster than I would have believed, and Mum was trying to pull her back. She had tears streaming down her face and was screaming in anguish as Mum attempted to grab her by the arm.

"I won't leave him!" she shrieked. "I won't! Let go of me! Let _go_! Hagrid! Hagrid, run!"

It was only then that I saw Hagrid charging through the battle, his face set and his eyes ablaze with fury. He ducked behind the crumbling pillars that surrounded the yard, trying his best to steer clear of the Death Eaters. Harry remained still in his arms, but he was so small compared to Hagrid that he looked like a ragdoll. I could hardly stand to watch.

It only took a moment for Mum to get a firm grip on Ginny. She took my sister by the hand and the two of them Disapparated into the air.

Just as I exhaled in relief, I saw another flash of red. Thorfinn Rowle, whose face was contorted with anger, had backed Dad into a corner. Rock and rubble littered the ground below them, and Dad was beginning to lose his footing. For a split second he struggled on a sharp piece of stone. Rowle saw his chance to attack, but I raised my wand and bellowed out a curse I never thought I would use.

"_Crucio!_"

Rowle didn't even have time to look in my direction. He collapsed to the ground, thrashing like a fish out of water.

When Dad caught sight of me, his eyes widened in disbelief. We both stood silent, but only for an instant. Before I knew it, he began rushing toward me like a wild bull. He was sweating furiously, and his cloak was so shredded that it hung off of him like a wilting flower.

"_Leave_!" he shouted angrily, as if I didn't just save his life. "George, Disapparate!"

We both had to duck as a shower of stone fell upon us, and Dad immediately wrapped his arms around me. I tried to get up, but his force kept me weighted to the ground. Just as the debris below began to fill my lungs, Dad turned to me and stared into my eyes. I could sense his fear; I could feel the fire that burned in his hand when he clapped me on the shoulder.

"I'm not leaving without you." My words felt like knives in the back of my throat.

Dad responded with a pained grunt, but he nodded nonetheless. He knew he couldn't make me leave. If I was going to Disapparate to safety, I was going to make damn sure my family had done so first. Dad needed only to see the conviction written on my face to know that.

The two of us stood and looked upon the battle. There were less people fighting now; You-Know-Who had vanished, but a large number of his Death Eaters still remained, and the Order was doing their best to fend them off. Remus, Tonks, and Kingsley were taking on Bellatrix Lestrange, but she was fast as a whip flying through the air. Her derisive laughing filled me with such rage that I began to walk forward to join them, but Aberforth's booming voice stopped me.

"Everyone get back!" His voice was as loud as a lion's roar. "I said get back!"

Those from the Order cast their last spells and quickly retreated from the Death Eaters, a few of them so weakened that they were forced to crawl away on their elbows and knees. Aberforth was in front of us now, and the sudden slash from his wand made the ground below burst with flames as big as giants. He didn't turned around to face us. All he did was scream, and scream again.

"GO! GO NOW!"

I tried to move toward him, but Dad caught my arm and turned on the spot. I reached out to Aberforth, saying his name, calling out for help with no answer – and in an instant, everything disappeared.

* * *

><p><em>I hope you know what you're doing<em>.

I didn't know. I never knew.

_What have I done?_

"What have I done? Dad. Dad…"

"George, it's alright. We're home. We're safe. You're safe, that's all that matters."

"Dad, what have I done?"

My head felt like it had been split open. The grass beneath me was warm with the summer heat, and all I could think about were the flames. Those beautiful flames licking the sky, and Aberforth standing tall in front of them as though they had come from his own mouth. I had seen Remus and Tonks – they were alive! What had changed? What happened?

"What happened?" I whispered.

I opened my eyes. Dad was hovering over me. There was a trickle of blood rushing from his forehead that dripped slowly onto my t-shirt, but he didn't seem to notice. He was smiling; it was a weak smile, although I knew he couldn't have possibly been amused by anything that had happened in the courtyard. In fact, I was surprised that he wasn't furious with me.

"You're okay," Dad said wearily. "Just breathe. I think you may be in shock."

That was an understatement. My entire body was frozen in fear. My eyes ached and my head was filled with tormented screams. The dead and the dying both appeared before me. They reached their hands out to me, mangled, rotting hands that would never feel again. This world – whatever world I was in – was not my own. I could feel it in my heart. I could feel it all around me.

But this was what I wanted, wasn't it?

"No," I said, but it didn't feel as though I was speaking. "I never wanted this."

Dad was silent. He was looking at me strangely, almost as if he knew what I was talking about, but he said nothing. Instead he took me by the elbow and helped me to my feet, brushing off the dirt and grass that had stuck to me when I hit the ground.

"Where is everyone?" I asked. "Is everyone… I mean, did anyone…?"

I couldn't bear to finish the sentence.

"The family is safe," Dad told me, and I breathed easy for once – but the sadness in his voice betrayed him.

"What about everyone else? Everyone in the Order?" I said. With difficulty I asked him, "What about Harry?"

Dad looked up at me with tears in his eyes.

"Harry is dead."

I had seen it myself. The image of Harry lying in Hagrid's arms, his body pale and unmoving, had seemed like nothing more than a dream. I had seen it, but hearing the words still felt like a dagger to the heart. And the silence that came after only welcomed more terrible thoughts into my head. _This is my fault. This is all my doing._

"Come on," Dad said suddenly. "Your mother is probably worried sick about you."

He motioned for me to walk in front of him. I didn't budge. For a moment the world stood still, and I could think of nothing but the dread that filled my lungs. I could hear nothing but the ragged breaths coming out of my mouth, see nothing but the flickering of stars as my eyes filled with tears. But I refused to cry. I couldn't even begin to explain what was going through my mind, all the hopelessness and regret that had taken hold of me when I realized that everything had gone wrong… I couldn't explain it to anyone, save for the one person I came back to save. And I didn't even know how I would explain it to him.

Dad stood in front of me, waiting for me to move. I thought he was going to ask me what was wrong, or why my legs had suddenly turned to lead, but those were questions that couldn't be answered. He must have sensed that, for there was a grimace on his face that told me he, too, was at a loss for words. He gripped my shoulder and gently patted my cheek, then turned around and walked slowly toward the house.

The stars were now a blur above me, nothing but distant lights floating in the darkness. If death meant I could live among those stars, I would have fallen peacefully into its arms.


End file.
